


Mensis Exolvuntur

by DangerSlut, Phanto77



Category: Gladiator - Fandom, Original Work, Spartacus - Fandom, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: AU, Ancient Rome, Possessive Behavior, Rape, Roma, Rome - Freeform, Wrestling, gladiator, wrestling au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 23:02:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3587322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerSlut/pseuds/DangerSlut, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phanto77/pseuds/Phanto77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello all! Welcome to our, DangerSlut and I's, collaborative work. We got the idea for this fic after Seth Rollin's dismantling at the hands of Randy Orton recently and we've decided to write something about it, after I showed the, frankly smoking, video to my friend DS.</p>
<p>Since only one of us is actually a wrestling fan(soon she'll be one, don't you worry lol), we've decided to have as little wrestling in this fic as possible, so as to also make it appealing to non-wrestling fans and people who just like to read fics. </p>
<p>But in fairness to wrestling fans, and wrestling itself, the beautiful semi-erotic sport that brought us this enjoyable moment of deviance, we will be hiding a few easter eggs in the fics every once in a while for the diehard fans. </p>
<p>Now without further ado, enjoy! But enter at your own discretion.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Moon Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Welcome to our, DangerSlut and I's, collaborative work. We got the idea for this fic after Seth Rollin's dismantling at the hands of Randy Orton recently and we've decided to write something about it, after I showed the, frankly smoking, video to my friend DS.
> 
> Since only one of us is actually a wrestling fan(soon she'll be one, don't you worry lol), we've decided to have as little wrestling in this fic as possible, so as to also make it appealing to non-wrestling fans and people who just like to read fics. 
> 
> But in fairness to wrestling fans, and wrestling itself, the beautiful semi-erotic sport that brought us this enjoyable moment of deviance, we will be hiding a few easter eggs in the fics every once in a while for the diehard fans. 
> 
> Now without further ado, enjoy! But enter at your own discretion.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A story of lust, power and the fight for freedom. Seti is a new acquisition to Claudius' ludus. After his hopes for freedom are crushed, he comes to terms with his servitude and is somewhat content Until he catches someone's eye, that is. Radar is the ludus' best gladiator, and its strongest too. He sees something he likes very much. But will that something want him back?

The sun hangs high and heavy in the sky, oppressive heat beating down on freeman and slave alike. There wasn't even a breath of wind to alleviate the stagnant air of the ludus, even perched upon it's hilltop lands.

 

The first thing the men heard was the clatter. The clatter of chains, and the shuffling of feet. Ringlets of shackles waning as they rubbed against each other, their sound an assault to the senses. The sound of the ringlets, along with the torturing brightness of the sun and the smell of sweat and man, made this day one that everyone hoped ended.

 

The voices of men followed. Free men. Powerful men. Roman men. Just then everything seemed to freeze. No one knew the reason, for the two choices appeared at the same time. Just as Dominus appeared with the other Roman, undoubtedly free yet as dishevelled and disgraced as can be, the mountainous Randar the Viking, appeared in the doorway to his private room, leaning on the door, watching the proceedings. He was the only gladiator in the ludus with his own room, after Clitorus(lol) has been defeated.

 

Along with Randar, many of the other gladiators and house slaves gather in the courtyard as the new slaves are brought in, murmuring to each other as they try and guess what the new stock will be like. Fresh faced, virgin slave girls? Warriors subdued and dragged here from lands away? Servant boys that could be bent over and made to moan like girls?

 

It seemed like a little bit of all, and to the eyes of the gladiators, who were so removed from the rest of the world, every new face was a treat. Something to be desired and claimed if the opportunity ever presented itself.

 

The new slaves shuffled in, kicking up dust as they walked. They were all heavily shackled, locked at the wrists and in heavy collars, all of the connected a long chain that ran from collar to collar.

 

But the last slave, tall and muscular with his long hair obscuring his face, was more tightly bound. He is ankles were shackled together by a short chain, limiting his movement. Whoever was selling him must be afraid of him running... None of the others were chained the same way.

 

The Roman who was surveying the new slaves with the Dominus smiles nervously and says "And here they are, Claudius! I hope your new… acquisitions are more to your liking than this ghastly weather!" He shook the Dominus’ hand frantically, bowing ever so slightly.

 

"I'm sure they will all please in some way or another," replies the master of the house, smiling as he returns the handshake. "They all look healthy, for coming from such a ... lowly market."

 

"I may not be a wealthy man, Claudius, but even during the hardest times, I take good care of what belongs to me."

 

"Something for which I am grateful," nods Claudius patting the other Roman on the back as he approaches the new slaves. "Ah, pretty, well fed girls to take care of my guests and home... And your boys... Eunuchs? Any of them?"

 

"No." He looked nervous again. “I, uh, wasn’t aware that you required..”

 

"Ah well,” he interrupted, “that is a simple matter to take care of. I have a young daughter who would benefit from male tutors and companions. Her own eunuch will suit perfectly."

 

The shabby Roman nods and smiles, leading Claudius down the line to his greatest possession, his prized slave. Seti. Beautiful, powerful, dangerous Seti.

 

Claudius’ curiosity had been aroused by this slave. In the arena, his speed made him virtually invisible. He was lean and thin, compared to the utter mountains he had in his possession, but he knew when he laid eyes on him that one of these possessions he must become.

 

Seti lifted his head as they approached him. Eyes swollen and tearful, he stares, blame filling his brown sorrowful eyes, at his former master. He chased the other man’s guilty eyes with his own. His hair was messy and matted, disheveled and sweaty from his struggling. It hung in his face limply, obscuring his fine features.

 

Claudius had not had the opportunity to see Seti up close, only having watched his victories and eventual downfall safely from the gilded seats in the arena boxes. He had always marveled at the sight of the sun kissed, long haired Gladiator though, determined to own him as much as many spectators desired him in their beds.

 

He reached towards Seti’s face, which was at level with his own, to tuck a lock of hair behind the warrior’s ear and out of his face so he could finally see the full value of his purchase. The moment Claudius’s fingertips brushed against Seti’s locks, the fallen gladiator bares his teeth in  and jerks his head away, indignant at the unwelcomed touch.

 

“Seti!” the Roman exclaimed, his voice disappointed. “Where are your manners?”

 

“You,” he whispered, his voice breathy and weak. “You promised. I was to be freed, you promised.”

 

The Roman sighs heavily and shakes his head, unable to meet Seti’s eyes. “I am sorry, my boy, but it can no longer be done. If you had won… Brought coin back to the ludus with victory… Well, matters would be different. But you must understand, if I could, I would give you your freedom.”

 

“I have served your household for years, Dominus. Since I was a child!” protests Seti, surging forwards. “You cannot do this to me. Please, not after everything thing I have done. After every life I took in your name.”

 

“There is nothing to be done, my dear boy,” repeats the Roman, stepping forwards and cupping his favorite slave’s face in the palm of one of his hands. “I must keep my family free and fed. Selling you will keep them so for many years. I am sorry.”

 

There was a finality in the Roman’s voice. Seti looked away, as much as the collar would let him. “Tell him to unchain me.”

 

“Ah, so my new gladiator has decided to comply! Excellent!” grins Claudius, taking the key from the other Roman and starting to unlock Seti’s shackles. “I would hate to have to bend you to my will. It is good to have a properly trained gladiator in my ludus. I mostly get unrefined animalistic brutes from far off lands.”

 

The ragged Roman looked sorrowful as he said this. “Seti is dutiful and he,” he stopped, fighting a lump in his throat, “he, uh, knows his place and duty. He is… was my most prized possession.”

 

“If he lives up to his reputation, I am sure he will be just as prized here,” comments Claudius blandly, starting to walk in a circle around Seti. He looks his new acquisition up and down, feeling the powerful muscles in his arms and patting his flank. Assessing the slave like he would a horse. “Hmm, he is quite a fetching one, is not? A fine specimen, indeed.”

 

“It is a part of his appeal. He gained as much popularity in the stadium with his looks as he did his skills,” replies the roman, worry creeping into his voice. He knows how gladiators can be treated by more powerful, wealthy houses, how they were used for more than just fighting, and he hopes that Seti would be spared such an indignity.

 

“Hmm,” the Roman was relieved that to hear lack of interest in the Dominus’ voice. A lack of lusty interest that is, for interests in Seti can be plentiful.

 

“I would do well to keep up his appearance then, so that he will bring great wealth to my ludus,” says Claudius, nodding curtly before winking at the roman. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint the women of Rome, now would we?”

 

“I fear there would be a riot,” laughs the Roman, only half joking.

 

“Well, my friend,” Dominus put a friendly finality to his voice, and extended his hand. “It has been a true, and quite profitable, pleasure doing business with you. You must join us sometime in future, to dine and be merry.”

 

“It would be an honor Claudius, truly,” replies the Roman, taking his cue and leaving the Ludus with one final, regretful look at Seti.

 

Once the Roman was out of sight, Claudius claps his hands together and calls to one of slaves. “Cressida! Come and take care of my new slaves. See that they are given task suitable to their skills and that they are both properly cleaned and dressed.”

 

“Yes Dominus,” answers a small, beautiful woman. She was starting to approach her middle years, but the tiring work made her look slightly older. Still she carried herself with a grace unmatched. She was pale, very pale. Her hair, her skin, even her eyes, all of her was pale. Skin almost the colour and smoothness of white porcelain.

 

Seti looked down at the woman barely shorter than himself. Looking at her unsure expression, fearful of any sudden movements of his, he gave her a shaky tearful smile, reassuring her that, to her, he is quite harmless.

 

“Follow me,” she says to the slaves as a whole, although she did return Seti’s smile with her own radiant one. “I will show you your new stations and explain your duties. Would you like me to unburden you, Seti, was it?” she asked, lightly. He nodded slightly, and she began to inspect the chains that held him heavy. With a few clicks, she released him of the chains that needed no keys. “One moment,” she said, as she looked to captain of the guard pointedly to give her the keys.

 

Once the key was in her hand, Cressida not only unlocks Seti’s shackles, but the rest of the slaves as well. She is kind and gentle as she does so, carefully checking for any wounds that might have been caused by the shackles. There is heavy bruising around Seti’s wrists, as well as his throat, but luckily his skin was not broken by the roughness of the poorly made shackle loops. It would be a terrible loss if they lost him due to infection before he at least covered hsi cost to her Dominus’ house.

 

Rubbing his wrists in discomfort, Seti starts to walk towards the gladiators quarters. He walked with the grace of a gazelle, his movements effortless but powerful. It helped that in his leanness, he resembled one as well.He blinks back his tears, refusing to allow the other gladiators see his weakness, even though his shoulders shook as he suppressed them once in a while.

 

He still longed for freedom but there was no point in dwelling on its loss at the moment. He knew not true freedom, so at least he was ignorant as to what he was missing. Now, he had to make an impression on the other gladiators, find his place among the brotherhood of warriors here, or he would even lose the simple pleasure of respectful companionship.

 

As he approaches the doorway that led into the gladiators quarters, he feels eyes boring into him. He turns to see whose eyes they are. He then sees the large, gargantuan in fact, gladiator that had been watching the proceedings intently from the beginning for the first time. The other gladiator was thick with muscles, and towered over Seti. He was pale where Seti was dark, although the sun had kissed his paleness as well and his not yet thick beard made him look darker. His hair was cropped close to his scalp and in the bright light of midday, Seti could see the hues of gold and white that it was made of. Not the white of old age, but of the lands far to the North, where sun was scarce. It was like the cold light of the moon, beautiful but distant. Never felt on the skin like the light of the sun above.

 

The giant gladiator filled the doorframe, arms crossed over his burly chest as he sizes Seti up. His face was emotionless, hard, but there was a fire in his eyes as he drank in the sight of Seti. Seti knew that look, had seen it in the eyes of the Roman women and men who watched him fight. This brute desired him, but the thought of those rough hands on him made Seti shudder in disgust. He had never liked being with a man and never intended on changing that.

 

Puffing his chest up and squaring his shoulder, Seti turns to the side slightly before forcing his way past the other gladiator with a soft “Excuse me.” He wasn’t going to allow this man to bully him, but he wasn’t one to forget his manners either.

 

The gladiator puts up a moment of resistance, letting their newest brother shove at him, before stepping aside to let Seti pass. As Seti passes the barbarian, the hulk of man turns with him, a rumble deep in his chest arising as he fills the doorway again, blocking Seti’s escape.

 

 


	2. دورة القمر

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again! Sorry for the late update, but timezones suck!

Chapter 2

 

Randar POV

 

The ‘baths’ the Dominus provided for the gladiators were only baths in name. A room with a rough pit carved out in the stone ground with loathsome lukewarm water that housed the foulest of pests at the bottom. The gladiators were given soap, a cloth, and a bucket with only slightly warmer water in it, but that was all they were allowed, to wash of the days of sweat, dirt and blood that had built up on their bodies.

 

Randar usually washed first, privileged, to use the baths before any of the others dirtied the water, but today he stayed back, waiting for Seti. Seti was new and had not yet earned his place within the brotherhood or Ludus pecking order, so he was forced to wait until every other gladiator or trainee was finished.    

 

The image of the baths was one set in stone. Those at the top sit on their makeshift thrones, often washed by their lessers, while the midcarders(wrestling easter egg lol) socialized and spoke to each other, in brotherly fondness. Randar never questioned this order, nor did he feel the slightest discomfort. Until now. The robust nature of the baths, the ludus in general, was missing something, a keystone. Like wineless dining or a highborn woman’s bare neck, the rub only noticed when one knew what was missing. And Randar decided what was missing, for he sees it now. At the door, peering in shyly. Finally the image is complete.  

 

Seti stood nude in the doorway to the baths, shielding his body with his bucket as he tries to cover his nakedness with it. He looks nervous, unsure, to Randar, as if he had never bathed with other men before and did not know what to expect. Randar almost smiled in amusement. Almost. Randar may not have necessarily been much of a lover of men in the past, but it certainly was not rare. It was commonplace, even, for a gladiator to be quite exclusive in his tastes and his carnal desires. Women were not readily available to those low on the pecking order and so they must make do with what they can find. But whether it was necessity or choice, the love of men was not a rarity, indeed. Seti must have learned that from Petagorus’s loud “love making” to his beloved catamite the night before. The thought of Seti being afraid of being accosted in the baths by one of his brothers causes mixed emotions with Randar, primarily amusement, but a seed of anger burns underneath, as well. Suddenly, Randar’s amusement died before it even lived.

 

“New meat!” a good natured voice cried, as its owner approached Seti, not too mindful of the flaccid meat dangling about between his legs. “Well, wot’s yer name dere, lad? Wos the matter, boy, somethin’ got yer tongue?” The man’s laugh was a loud bark and his manner was approachable.

 

Seti startles as he is addressed, having not been paying attention to his surroundings. He straightens up and clears his throat, still holding his bucket to shield his nakedness as he makes a point of not looking anywhere but the other man’s face. “Hmm? Ah, yes. Seti. Seti’s the name.”

 

“Where ye be from then, Seeti?”

 

“Seti. It’s Seti.”

 

“Oh aye, wha’ever be yer name, lad.”

 

“I was born here, well, in Rome. But I am Greek-Egyptian.”

 

“Gods, we’ve go’ ourselves a Roman, ‘aven’t we?”  He clapped Seti on his back and laughed, and it was very difficult not to at least smile at the warmth of the man’s company.

 

“I, ‘ere, be called Aren. Me companions ‘ave the pleasure of bein’ Corol, Dameen, and Brodick. We all be Celts.”  

 

“Celts? Truely? I have only heard whispers of your lands, but to be honest, I doubt that many of them are true.”

 

Randar watched as Seti conversed with the Celts, men far lower in the ranks than he. They were pale, very pale, making Seti skin look like molten caramel. Randar imagined it tasted just as sweet, too. As the conversation went on, Seti’s excitement and comfort becoming more apparent, Randar’s mood darkened as well, his forehead creasing and his arms flexing as he crossed them over his chest. He decided to wait after the baths were over, and everyone had left. He told himself he wished to be even cleaner that he already was after his meticulous scrubbing.

 

“Is it not incredibly cold, your land?”

 

“Aye, lad. Tis why we are pale, they say. Even the sun fears be near Celtic land. We live by each other’s warmth.” He spoke the last sentence suggestively, although the playfulness made it less of a threat.

 

Seti smiled slightly and cleverly replied, “Let us be thankful, then, for Rome’s hot sun, should you find yourself in need of warmth.”

 

The other men were uncharacteristically quiet, for a few moments, and then burst into joyous laughter, as they all clapped his shoulder good naturedly. “Good man, yerself, good man.”

 

Seti smiles to himself, but his chest swells with pride for making the Celts laugh. From what he had heard whispered by other slaves and occasionally Romans, the Celts were beasts. Raping, pillaging beast that ran naked into battle, howling and laughing like demons as they hacked down Roman men, women and children equally. These men sounded nothing like demons, and they did not seem ready to slaughter everyone in the ludus, at least not at the moment. It was good to know that not all Celts were like the stories.

 

Randar grinds his teeth together as he watches the other Northerners laugh and embrace Seti, touching the handsome man’s shoulders freely. It makes the hair on the back of Randar’s neck prickle and rise, and he wants to stand between them and Seti to stop it from happening again.

 

As the bath began to clear out, Randar was left alone with Seti, who thankfully stayed behind and also hardly noticed his presence. He had not once touched his bucket, for he had been too preoccupied with standing idly in the doorway and speaking with the Celts. Perhaps that had been the plan? To wait until the baths were his to use alone? What a strange man, thinks Randar. Anyones else would use that baths as quickly as possible, both so they could avoid standing in the filthy water for too long and so they could make dinner before the food grew too cold to tolerate, especially knowing Mam’s attitude towards seconds.

 

Randar stands behind Seti, watching as he washes himself, pulling his long hair over his shoulder and revealing the long, graceful line of his spine. Randar longed to reach out and stroke down the divot with the tips of his fingers, right from the top of Seti’s neck to the curve of his buttock, claiming all of it.

 

Before he could even finish that train of thought, Randar’s body was already acting on his desires without his mind’s consent. He reached out and did exactly that which he thought of doing. The tips of his fingers touched electritrifying silk, sending a tingling pleasure up his arm and spreading through his body. Possessing him, making him crave every inch of Seti’s skin.

 

He revelled in ecstasy as his fingers follow that beautiful Gods-made line down, down to that hidden spot that Randar wants all for himself. To shove himself in and make Seti scream his name in euphoria, like the people of Rome once screamed Seti’s name in the arena, and like the scream Randar’s still.

 

But suddenly, that silk was gone.

 

“What are you doing?!” exclaims Seti, turning to face Randar. Seti was scowling, but was a blush spreading across his cheeks and he was holding his cloth to his chest, as if trying to hide again. “I… I do not need your help with washing. I can do so on my own well enough!”

 

He then realized whom he was talking to, and the sheer size of him. Randar towered over Seti as only a god would. He looked as grim as Pluto himself, not a hint of amusement or mirth or mercy or kindness in that face, a face etched in stone. Mayhap, not a bad one to look at if it ever smiled… And did not have such a fear-inducing look in its eyes.

 

Randar didn’t reply to Seti’s protest, didn’t even grunt in acknowledgment, just continues to loom ominously over Seti. He takes a step forwards, moving into the smaller man’s personal space, forcing the new gladiator back against the wall of the pit.

 

Fear and uncertainty start to creep of Seti’s spine, but he had learned in the ring to never let it show. He puffs up his chest, raises his chin, and braces himself for whatever Randar had planned.    

 

Randar reaches up and touches the other man’s hair, crushing his locks like petals in rough hands.

 

Seti leans back, flattening himself to the wall of the pit as he tries to get away from the brute pawing at him, waiting for an opportune moment.

 

Randar grabs for Seti’s wrists firmly, squeezing them tightly in warning, and then letting go. Stepping in even closer, Randar looks Seti up and down. He takes in every muscle, scar, and contour. Every freckle, spot, and mark was a point of interest for the Nordic warrior, and he planned on knowing them all. He wanted to know, posses, every aspect of this young warrior. And I will, he thinks, I will.

 

Randar leans in so close, their chests almost touch, his mouth at Seti’s ear and his breath hot on the sensitive skin behind the younger man’s ear. But before he has the opportunity to say anything, Seti brings his knee up forcefully into Randar’s abdomen, forcing the air from Randar’s lungs and knocking him back. Randar stares at Seti, surprised at being denied and giving just enough time for Seti to slip away and escape. He moved like mercury, Randar barely having time to respond. Randar was not only a strong and capable warrior, but he was also agile. And even then, Seti’s maneuvering was calculated and swift.

 

Straightening up slowly, Randar watches Seti dash down the hall and disappear into the safety of the ludus barracks, his snarl curling into a grin. It had been a long time since anyone had denied him anything; their time, attention, or body. He was the most skilled gladiator in Claudius’s possession and treated as such. He was a slave, true, but a valued one and he had certain privileges.  

 

It was going to be fun to hunt the boy, capture and break him. The change would be refreshing and reminded him of when he was still a raider.Maybe the boy would even bring some excitement back into his life here seeing as his life of defeating all who stand before him was proving to be a quite monotonous one. Not that fighting for your life was not a rush, it was all just starting to blend together, at this pace. The crowds, his opponents, the arenas… It was nothing compared to the open sea, the foreign lands he had seen, the woods of his homeland.

\---

 

The next morning, Randar awakens bright and early, scarfing down his breakfast and heading directly to the training grounds. He had been awake most of the night, unable to get the image of Seti from his mind, unable to find any satisfaction in his hands.

 

He needed to work off the energy somehow, and he decided that training was how he would. He could become mindless in practice, repeating the same moves over and over, feeling the burn of his muscles and the sun beating down on his back. It was how he worked through any other issues he had faced. Suppressing them until they left or he got what he wanted. It was resultless with Seti.

 

As the day continued, he found that he could not think of anything but the new gladiator. He loses track of his exercises, distracted by thoughts of how soft the other man’s hair was, how good he smelled, a natural pleasant smell along with leftover oils from the baths.

 

Seti moved with grace and ease the likes of which Randar has never witnessed in a gladiator before, dancing around his opponent like a nymph before swiftly disarming them. His sun kissed skin gleamed in the sunlight, damp with sweat, muscles moving beautifully.

 

Randar wanted to grab Seti and pull him under him, wants to feel that tight body squirm in his grasp and squeeze around his cock. If he does not, he feels he will burst. He thinks he would never sleep again, knowing that Seti could be taken, writhing, by another. That one of his brothers could be fucking what was his.

 

Enough of them were sniffing around the young man almost eagerly as he was, and some he barely trusted to respect his authority, if at all. He had to do something and fast, before he lost his prize to another, far less deserving than himself.

 

With a roar of frustration, Randar hurls his sword, sending it clattering against the wall before falling to the ground. He paces, rubbing his hands over his shaven head as the others watch him, stunned. With another growl, he storms out of the training grounds and goes to request an audience with Claudius.

 

\---

 

It was not until the evening that Claudius had time to see his prized warrior and hear his concerns. He sent down two guards to bring the beast of a man up from the barracks and into his quarters so that they could speak in private. Randar was not one for conversation and was an obedient slave, so when he had something to say, Claudius took note.

 

Randar was visibly agitated when he was brought to the Roman, shoulders hunched, brow furrowed, his hand repeatedly opening and closing as he stands before his master.

“Randar, my friend, what is the matter?” asks Claudius, his voice concerned but light, motioning for one of the slave girls to bring that gladiator wine. Randar practically snatches it from her hands, swallowing in down in one long pull before handing the cup back to her.

 

“Thank you, Dominus,” growls the hulk of a man, starting to pace in front of his master. Acting like a beast, cornered and nervous, as he thought through his next move.

 

“I have request to ask of you,” continues the gladiator slowly, glancing at the Roman briefly.

 

“Name it,” encourages Claudius, nodding and smiling benevolently at his possession.

 

“The Greek-Egyptian, Seti,” he said. After a pause, he continued, “I want him… For myself. I have never.. Asked such a thing from you, Dominus, but please grant me this.”

 

As Randar makes his request, Claudius leans back in his seat, both surprised and amused. Randar was a savage man, often content with fucking the whores that were brought down for the gladiators fuck, or any slave girl or boy who bent over for him. He never seemed to be at a loss for holes to fuck, even having bedded the occasional guard, or at least as the rumors in the Ludus said.

 

He never expected Randar to have trouble getting what he desired, and to see this brute so enamoured with Seti, oh, it was delightful!

 

“He is a lovely man, isn’t he?,” smirks Claudius, watching Randar like a hawk. “Does he not desire you in return?”

 

“Does that matter?” Randar’s voice was quiet and disinterested. Claudius’ eyebrows shot up in amusement and he chuckled.

 

“You truly are a beast, Randar. ‘Tis why I favour you.” He was silent for a good while. The suspense grew more unbearable as Randar grew wary of refusal.

 

Once he was done having his fun, dragging the moment out for Randar, the Dominus nods and smiles, waving the gladiator away with his hand. “He is yours, but I expect you take care of him,” says the Roman. “He is still my slave and he will not be a burden on this house. Make sure he can at least walk.”

 

“I cannot promise that, Dominus,” Randar replies slyly, to which the Roman chuckles yet again.

 

“Do not ruin him, Randar. He was expensive… Now go, enjoy your pet.”

 

\---

 

The moment Randar returns the barracks, he stands at Seti’s door. The room quiets down at the presence of his gargantuan figure. For several moments, everyone is frozen, hardly even a breath could be heard. Seti, who was in the process of arranging what little possessions he had under his bed, paused and sought what seemed to grab everyone’s attention. And then he himself froze as well.

 

Straightening up from his lean in the doorway, Randar’s heavy footsteps echoed as he approached a wide-eyed Seti. He stopped and stood there for a few heavy moments. The tiny step Seti takes back is his que. Randar’s hand shot out and clamped around Seti’s upper arm, roughly and painfully. That, in turn, was Seti’s que to begin a wordless yet vicious struggle to get out of Randar’s grasp.

 

As Randar began to drag the unwilling man behind him, giving little heed to the shocked into silence occupants of the barrack, Seti tried all the tricks he knew to leave that grasp. The hallway was bigger and so had more room for more vigorous struggling. He screamed a barely intelligible, “No”, through gritted teeth. When he finally came to his last trick, deadweighting himself, Randar was long exasperated with his struggles, lifted Seti onto his shoulder in an odd manner. Seti was not splayed across Randar’s shoulder facing up, his back resting on the man’s muscled shoulder.

 

Randar arrived with a kicking and screaming Seti, into his chamber, highly unique for a slave, and threw him nonchalantly onto the bed in the middle of the small room. Seti hit the bed face down and looked back, questioning eyes fixed on the other man who stood sure and tall in the doorway, his well-drawn mouth about to ask a question of “What?”, “Why?”, and “Where?”

  
Sensing the younger man’s confusion, Randar began to take off his tunic. His voice was impassive and matter-of-fact, rumbling deep and low as he said “You live here now.”


	3. σεληνιακό κύκλο

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! So sorry for the late post, it was almost ready and then I had to go and get sick. Anyhow, better late than never. Enjoy!

Seti hits the bed with a shocked gasp, clawing at the thin sheet that covered it for a moment before crawling forwards, away from Randar, and turning around.

 

‘You live here now.’ The way Randar growls the words, the purpose behind those words, it makes Seti’s blood run cold. He knows that Randar wants him, how could he not? Who does not want him? But he had never thought it would actually happen.

 

Seti was frozen in his place as he watched the other man. He was so controlled in his movements, for such a large man. By Jupiter, was he large. Every inch of Randar was thick, hard muscle, broad and oozing power. Like he had been carved from stone by the gods.

Seti’s mouth dried up as he takes in the sight of the hulking gladiator, frantically trying to think of a way out of this situation.

 

But when his eyes found what was between the brute’s legs, his brain comes to a horrified stop. Randar’s cock was just as big as the rest of him, hard too. Thick, veined and throbbing between his thighs, pointing at Seti eagerly as a bead of precum starts to gather at the tip.

 

There was no way that was going to fit inside of him, no way he was going to let it! It would be agony. It would split him in half. And the humiliation of being taken forcefully by a beast like Randar, he would not be able to live down. No, he would not have it.

 

Without another thought, he bolts for the door, maneuvering around Randar as swiftly as he can. He was lucky to catch the beast off guard, who thought he prey was paralyzed with fear. But Randar’s gladiator skill had prepared him for this and his quarters were small, which would make it difficult for Seti to escape once he was back in his grasp. He had Seti’s speed on record and was well aware of his swiftness. He had vowed, after the last time Seti escaped him, that he would never do so again. It was not only his desire that would be compromised, but his reputation as a gladiator, a warrior.

 

Pivoting around quickly, Randar strides after the other gladiator, catching just as he neared the door, the door that, in all his excitement he closed but forgot to lock. Seti has just started to pull the door open, eyes bright with the hope of escape, when a hand grasped at his hair. Randar uses that grip as well as his body weight to drive the smaller man into the door, making it thunder in the quietness of night, and effectively pinning Seti to it. After a few seconds of breathing on Seti’s neck and slamming the man into the door once more, Randar then pulls on his grip and steers Seti by his hair towards the bed again, making Seti feel as if his scalp will rip from his skull and be in Randar’s hand any second.

 

The scuffle is silent, apart from the occasional whimper or grunt from Seti. Randar was becoming more frustrated by the second, displeased by the boy’s struggling. He liked fighters, but he like willing fighters, ones that would, in the end, concede. He loved, as a gladiator, the conquest or even the illusion of the conquest. But he also knew that with Seti, that conquest would be greater still, and so the satisfaction much sweeter.

 

He had no moral qualms about this. He was a viking, a taker. His pleasure, and that alone, was all that mattered. Seti was a precious and desirable as he was insignificant, or as his pleasure and feelings were anyway.

 

Kicking Seti in the back of the knee, Randar forces the smaller man back down on the thin mat he called a bed. He forces Seti down face first, to keep him in place as the viking roughly rips the thin skirt and loin cloth away from his prize. He growls in disgust as the weak fabric shreds in his hands, furious at their very existence.

 

Seti cries out when he feels his clothes, the only set he had, be destroyed by the brute. He kicks and squirms, ignoring the pain in scalp as he fights against the hand pinning him down by his hair. “F-fuck, no! Leave me be!” he yells, throwing an elbow blindly behind him and to his surprise, connecting with something solid.

 

Randar huffs when Seti elbows him in the ribs, but such an awkward position drained much of Seti’s strenght. It was nothing to him. A kitten batting at a lion. But such disobedience could not be tolerated. His boy needed to know his place.

Hauling Seti back up by his hair, forcing his back to arch painfully, accentuating his Adam’s apple. Seti bares his teeth at Randar, grabbing at the larger man’s wrist as his head was pulled back even farther. Randar’s mouth twists into a frustrated frown, seeing as the boy was still playing hard to get, and decided that Seti might need a little motivation before he would submit to his better.

Pulling his free hand back as far as he can, Randar smacks Seti firmly across the face, jolting the smaller man’s face to the side even though Randar held it firmly in place by his hair. Seti’s eyes squeeze shut as he teeth clatch together, a red blotch blooming instantly on his left cheek.

“Going to behave now?” asks Randar gruffly, giving the other gladiator a good shake and making Seti groan in discomfort. But the moment the rough treatment stops, Seti spits in Randar’s face.

It shocks them both, halting them temporarily, but then Randar reaches up to wipe the mess from his face, and in return, rubs it into Seti’s hair. Seti makes a disgusted face, but it quickly turn to surprise as Randar stands up and roughly flips him over onto his back.

As Randar tries to force his way between his boy’s legs, Seti pushes at his chest, panic starting to fill him again. He had never been with a man before, never wanted to. It could not happen like this! Should not!

“Beast! Animal!” curses Seti, beating at Randar broad chest futilely. “How dare you! You cannot do this to me!”

Randar bristles at the insults, and with a snarl, he rears up over the boy and backhands him as hard as he can. A cry is pulled from Seti’s very soul, his bottom lip splitting and staning his mouth bright read as his head is knocked to the side and he falls back on the bed.

Before his head can clear and the ringing fades from his ears, Radar is looming over him again, a hand tightening around his throat as the massive man forces his way between Seti’s toned thighs.      

“You will behave,” states Randar, leaning in so close that their noses almost touched and their breath was hot on each other’s faces. Seti whimpers as he feels Randar’s cock nudge against the inside of his thigh, the weight and strength of the man on top of him, then meekly turns his head to the side.

His heart was in this throat and his blood had frozen solid in his veins. There was no way he could fight off Randar unarmed and in such confining quarters… And the hand on his throat… He didn’t dare to fight back anymore, worried that the monster above him would crush the life out of him. “You cannot do this,” he murmurs weakly, daring to glance up tearfully at Randar.

Randar gives a grunt of satisfaction as Seti goes still under him, but does not let up on the smaller man’s throat. He decides he will keep it there as a reminder of who was in charge. Of who Seti belonged to, in case he decided to act up again.

“Did you ever pause to think that you were given to me, boy?” replies Randar, leaning in to playfully bite at the subdude man’s ear.

Seti hisses and jerks his head away, disgusted by the contact. “Who would… What reason would they have for something so vile!?”

Randar barks out a laugh, then presses a demanding kiss to Seti’s temple. “Dominus,” chuckles the viking, grinning down at Seti. “And for no reason too. All I had to do was ask.”

Seti’s stomach drops as he hears the truth, feeling like he is falling through the floor. He pretty much belongs to Randar now that Dominus had given the brute permission to do as he pleased with Seti. And what if he continued to fight? If he made it too hard for Randar and the viking gave up? Would dominus punish him for upsetting the beast of a man, the best gladiator in Dominus’ ludus? If he did not let Randar take him, would his life become such a hell that he wished he did? Gods, he did not want to find out.

 

When he sees the hope fade from Seti’s eyes and the fight from his body, Randar lets out another satisfied grunt, stroking Seti’s hair once as a sign of approval before taking his fill of the smaller gladiator’s body.

 

He licks and bites every part of Seti he can reach without moving from his position of half laying on the handsome young man. He covers Seti’s throat and shoulders with love bites, almost making a collar with them. Now everyone would know the fresh meat was claimed. Owned. Well fucked regularly and that they should keep their hands to themselves. It is quite the sight too, tender flesh bruised back and blue with sweet pink welts to accentuate them.

He claws at Seti’s sides, groping at ribs and hips, firm and strong under his large hands.

 

It surprises him that Seti is taking this so well, not a single complaint coming from the boy. Oh, he hissed and squirmed under Randar when he bites or grabs to hard, clutching at the brute of a man’s arms and back as he tries to arch away from the pain.

 

It was amusing, and Randar cannot help but smile and make a game of it. Every time Seti whimpers, shoves at him or curls away, Randar bites, licks, or gropes him even harder. He wonders if his toy will catch on to his little game, finding it great fun to nip at Seti’s throat as he grapples the boy back onto his belly. But Seti does not, and by the time Randar is bored and ready to move on, the smaller man is yelping and bucking like a wild beast under the viking.

 

Randar loops his arm, in a final effort to restrain Seti, around the other man’s biceps. He tightened his hold until Seti’s biceps touched in a painful position. With arms of steel, Randar ensured that Seti was now quite helpless.

 

Seti heard Randar’s spitting. He heard Randar’s panting and frustrated breathing. But you never hear, see, or feel the arrow that kills you. At least not at first. For a moment, time stopped. Seti was floating in the air. Swimming in mental vacuum, darkness illuminated by diamond like stars, and one large golden waterfall. The sun. And then came the pain. Pain the likes of which he had never felt before, tearing him limb from limb, gnashing its teeth into his tender flesh, splitting him in half. And Randar was inside him.

 

Randar growls deep in his chest as he slowly sinks into Seti’s warmth, hugging every inch of his cock as he forces his way in, to the root. It had been difficult and a little painful at first, Seti clenched up and refusing to let Randar in, even with the aid of his spit. But with enough determination, enough force, the young man could not stop him from claiming what was his.

Seti feels like Valhalla around his cock, hot as a fire and squeezing him tighter than any cunt he had fucked before. In his fear and pain, the smaller man tighten around him, insides fluttering, almost milking him to completion. Fuck, he feels like he could cum like this, given enough time.

 

But he does not wish to wait and find out, now that he finally had Seti pinned and speared on his cock. Pulling his hips back as far as he can without slipping out of the smaller man, Randar thrusts into Seti with all his might, burying himself as deep as he can get in Seti’s hole.

 

The first thrust is like being impaled, the air ripping from his lung as Seti throws his head back and screams. It’s too rough, and he feels like he his being both split in half and burned alive inside out, at the same time. The horrible image of blood and gruesome mortal wounds fill Seti’s head, and each thrust continues to pull cries of agony and fear from him.

Randar’s strength shoves him forwards on the mat, jolts his shoulders, makes him hurt. Make him hurt everywhere. Make tears well up in his eyes and threaten to drip down over his cheeks.

 

He wanted to cry, sob like a child and crawl away to hide, but he could not. Even if he got away, Dominus would just hand him over again. Leave him trussed up and waiting in Randar’s bed.

 

While he doesn’t care for all the screaming, Randar’s at least pleased to find that his boy wouldn’t be silent in their bed. Maybe he has never taken a cock before and that is why he is making such a fuss, although Randar did not think that was the truth. Seti was far too handsome to have avoided the lust of some Roman or be fucked by the other gladiators of his old Ludus.

 

Maybe he simply did not like it rough and unexpected? Randar silently vows to change that, to train Seti to his liking. Once the younger man got used to him, Randar would have him moaning like any other slut.

 

Holding his arms in place with one hand and gripping the boy’s hips with the other, Randar fucks Seti deep and fast, the sound of their skin slapping together lound in the small room. He leans over Seti, pressing his face to the back of the other gladiator’s neck and breathing in his boy’s scent. One day it would mingle with his and everyone who got too close would know that Seti was claimed. He would make sure of it, even cum on the boy and make him wear it for all to see.

 

The mental image makes Randar moan and fuck the smaller man even harder, grinding for a moment at the end of every thrust. He was so close, so damn close.

 

The man’s breath was hot. Somehow, Seti felt that heat more than all the pain he was in. It hurt more, that heat. A scorching reminder of the ownership he now suffered under. All he could see was pain. All he could feel was pain. It was sweeping and almighty. And worst of all, it seemed as if it would never end.

 

Randar fucks Seti like an animal, hard and merciless, simply chasing after his own pleasure now. He imagines Seti’s handsome face flushed with pleasure, mouth hungry and open, begging for him. Cum in those soft, two-toned locks, glistening and dripping down his face.

Gods, if this was not mostly an act of domination, possession, he would have fucked that mouth instead… Once Seti is broken in, when there is no threat of biting…

 

Growling, Randar pulls all the way out and quickly scrambles up Seti, straddling the smaller man’s back to keep him pinned. He lets go of the new gladiator’s arms in favor of his hair, gathering it up in one hand and holding it by the very ends.

 

Seti wails as his hair is pulled but he is so relieved that the cock is out of his ass that he hardly thinks to struggle, the lessening pain enough to make him go pliant under the viking.

 

With his unoccupied hand, Randar strokes his cock quickly. It is nothing compared to Seti’s ass, so warm and tight, but the payoff would be more than worth it.

 

Huffing and grunting, Randar buck his hips forwards one last time before cumming with a growl, his eyes falling such and his entire body tensing with unbelievable pleasure. He cums on Seti soft hair, streaking the beautiful lock with three jets of hot, thick cum.

 

Seti lets out an undignified swak when he feels something land in his hair, seaping in until he felt it against his scalp. He know what it is, can tell from how Randar moans and moves on top of him, but is too stunned to curse the larger man out. He had assumed Randar would have cum inside him, claim him in a primal, vicious way that was suiting to his personality, but it seems the viking was more cruel and perverted than he had originally thought.

 

Milking out the last of his cum and letting it dribble into his boy’s hair, Randar wipes his cock clean on it before getting off the smaller man and laying down beside him on the mat. He folds his arms behind his head to pillow it, breathing deep and slow as he enjoyed the last of his afterglow, getting his heartbeat back on track. He ignores Seti for the time being, testing to see if his pet would run now that Randar was no longer holding him down.

 

Lucky for him, Seti stays right where he left him; face down, sobbing, and clutching at the sheet that covered the mat. Good, the boy could stay like that. A reminder of how it will be from now on if he keeps fighting.

 

Yawning, Randar rolls towards Seti and pushes the boy’s hair up away from his neck. He then slings one of his legs over both of Seti’s and grips the back of his neck with one hand, pinning the other gladiator in place so he does not try to scamper off during the night.

 

Seti flinches at the contact, stiffening under Randar’s hand, but does not pull away. His ass is killing him, burning and making him feel hollowed out inside. He doubts he could make it to the door, even without Randar there to drag him back to bed.

 

He cannot sleep though, disgusted and afraid of the man sleeping beside him. As he weeping dies down, he listens to to the viking’s breathing, hearing it slowly even out and then soften. When the brute was finally asleep, Seti finally relaxes under Randar’s restrictive embrace. With how sore and exhausted he was from both fighting and being fucked against his will, he falls asleep almost as quickly as the viking does.

 

\---

 

Seti wakes up confused and hurting the next morning, the sun shining in through the only window in Randar room and right on his face. He groans and shoves his face deeper into the thin mat, hiding from the light, from Randar… Where was Randar? He didn’t feel the warmth of the man beside him, the gladiator’s weight on the back of his legs and neck… Was it already time for training? God, how could that beast be up and going already? Seti felt like he hadn’t slept at all.

 

Starting to roll over so he could sit up, Seti yelps and flops back over onto his belly. He could not sit, could not put any pressure on his rear end. It hurt too much.

Dread fills him slowly, and he looks back over his shoulder, hoping to get a look at himself. Randar must have ripped him to shreds if he hurt this much. Hell, how could other man do this willingly?

 

Just as he is reaching back to feel how badly Randar had ruined him, there is a short knock at the door, which is then opened before he could even reply.

 

Claudius entered. He appraised the form lying before him, lying, quite unconsciously, like a bordello bestseller. “Hello, boy.”

 

Through gritted teeth, Seti replied, “Dominus.”

 

After a long pause and many seconds of scrutiny, Claudius said, “I can see now.” He continued, after seeing the other man’s confusion, “Why he wants you. At first, I was unsure what he saw in you. He’s fucked boys before, but none with the slightest show of masculinity. And none he wanted to keep.” Seti’s head shot up at the last word, and Claudius smiled. “Yes, boy, keep.”

 

As Claudius neared him, looking very out-of-place in this setting, clean as he was, Seti’s urge to back away was too great, and it cost him. He winced as Claudius crouched before him. Touching his hair, Dominus continued, “In a month, there will be a bout. Randar will be in the main event against a well-trained rival. He cannot lose.” After a minute of stroking the young man’s hair, Claudius suddenly grabbed Seti’s stubbled face, hard, squeezing the jaw. “Keep him satisfied. But do not stay idle. I did not buy you to be a bed warmer. But you keep him satiated. Do you understand?” Claudius had just seen Randar defeat 7 men, like a hot knife through butter. He knew Seti had something to do with it. He knew that Seti had everything to do with it.

At this point, Seti was shaking. He could barely keep himself up on his elbows. “No. Gods, no.”

 

Shoving Seti’s face away, Claudius stands up. “You’ll learn to take it soon enough. Randar is a viking, so he loves the conquest. But it’s only a matter of time that your resistance becomes… tiresome. Bend so he won’t break you, because believe me, he will break you.”

 

As he walked out, Seti’s voice stopped him, tinged with hateful sorrow, “How could you? I’ve done nothing to deserve this. How you could you do this to me?”

 

Claudius turned to him and smiled. “And here your former master said that you were the perfect slave. Tsk tsk tsk, did he lie, boy? Or did he have to tie you up to fuck you too? I’d be surprised if he didn’t.”

 

Seti’s tears began to flow. “ _Please_. You can’t do this to me.”

 

Claudius’ brow furrowed. “Can’t?” He looked at Seti and smiled. “There is nothing I ‘ _can’t_ ’ do. This is Rome, my boy. I am Roman. And in Rome, the Roman reigns." And with that, he left the room, leaving the used man to his misery.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like that little easter egg? Sorry, I just had to, hehe.


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